


I Slur A Plea For You To Come Home

by HeyJudeLetItBe



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Heartwrenching, M/M, One Shot, but I wrote it anyway, enjoy, i don’t make the rules, memory loss au, tearjerking, the angst AU nobody asked for, yall gonna cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyJudeLetItBe/pseuds/HeyJudeLetItBe
Summary: “Roger! Over here!” More people calling his name, more questions about things he didn’t have answers to, and more tears he’s having to fight off. “Blue shirt, red hair.” The woman stands and smiled to her peers. “With the album needing completion, if John doesn’t wake up, will you have a stand-in bassist?”Roger pushes his chair out forcefully. “Let’s get one thing straight! Without John, there is no Queen, without John, there is no album!”
Relationships: Brian May/Freddie Mercury, John Deacon/Roger Taylor, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	I Slur A Plea For You To Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> So if you didn’t read any of the tags this is super angsty and there is a major Character death and drinking mentioned at the end I cried while writing this there is some tooth rotting fluff in the middle, but if your not into heavy angst then I don’t recommend 
> 
> -MK

Roger paces through an empty waiting room, the clock, whose ticking is growing more deafening by the minute, reads 3:28 AM. Hospitals always seem so empty at these late-night hours. Every part of the blond’s body is aching, his eyes only staying open from the energy drinks he’s consumed in a desperate attempt to stay awake. His feet are throbbing From his frantic pacing about the ninth floor of the hospital in central London, yet he can’t bring himself to sit. 

Roger desperately wipes at the tears that fall down his cheeks again, he couldn’t lose Deaky, not now, not ever. He looks down at the silver band on his left ring finger, a reminder of the wedding they were planning, the minute the album was finished they were to be married. Freddie and Brian have already agreed to be their best men. 

Roger curses himself for insisting Brian and Freddie go home after they had begged Roger to let them stay. He knew that they needed to sleep, they needed to be rested for the press conference he knew they would have to have in the morning. He prays to everything he can think of that John will make it until the morning. 

Roger walked through the empty hallway and to the closed door that held his fiancé. Roger takes a shaky breath and opens the door to find John in the same place he was an hour ago when Roger left to pace around an empty hospital. Machines beeping and wires hooked up to almost every part of John’s body. 

Roger sits in the chair next to John’s bed and takes a limp hand in his, resting his head against the side of the bed he listens to John’s shallow breathing, at least he was breathing on his own. 

Roger doesn’t remember falling asleep, but it’s early morning when he’s startled awake by Brian’s hand on his shoulder. “Go home and change, Rog, Freddie is waiting for you, to make sure all goes well,” Brian said softly, helping Roger to his feet. “Call me if anything changes?” Roger asks, his voice raspy and raw from crying. Brian nods “Of course.” He says softly, leading Roger out of the room and to the waiting room where Freddie was looking out of the window at the passing traffic. 

Roger manages to avoid the press on the way to his home, it seems more empty than when he was last here, colder, darker. He can tell Freddie had cleaned up, and Brian had cooked something, the smell of breakfast wafting from the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind, we thought it might make you feel better if we cleaned a bit. Got you to eat something.” Freddie tried his best to fill the silence with anything other than their breathing and Roger’s sniffling. 

Roger tries to eat, Brian was an amazing cook, and he was starving, but after a couple of bites, he has to run to the trash can in the kitchen to avoid ruining Freddie’s hard work on the floors. Freddie rubs his back gently and hands his a glass of water once he’s finished emptying his stomach. 

Roger takes a short shower and changes into a new pair of jeans and one of John’s Elvis T-shirts, he smiles at the smell of John around him, almost like he was there, hugging him, telling him everything would be okay. “Ready, Freddie?” Roger comes down the stairs and forces a smile at the lead singer, who looks up from his place on the couch. “Brian called, he has a press conference set in two hours, he says there’s been no update on John.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Roger?! Roger!?” He hears reporters call his name, he’s staring at his hands, trying to fight off more tears. “Orange Shirt,” Roger says into the microphone, pointing at a reporter in the back of the crowd. “What if John doesn’t wake up?” He asks. Roger feels his face go pale, thankfully Brian is there to answer “He’s in stable condition, doctors are saying there is light at the end of the tunnel.” 

“Roger! Over here!” More people calling his name, more questions about things he didn’t have answers to, and more tears he’s having to fight off. “Blue shirt, red hair.” The woman stands and smiled to her peers. “With the album needing completion, if John doesn’t wake up, will you have a stand-in bassist?” 

Roger pushes his chair out forcefully. “Let’s get one thing straight! Without John, there is no Queen, without John, there is no album!” Freddie runs after Roger leaving Brian to end the conference. “Come here.” Freddie opens his arms and Roger allows himself to sob into Freddie’s shoulder. He hears camera shutters and reporters calling their names through thick glass windows, but he can’t find it in himself to care. 

“Mr. Taylor?” Roger pulls himself away from Freddie and looks at the man who had called his name. A man in a suit walks over to them, he’s the building manager. “You’ve got a phone call, from the hospital.” Roger runs to the office and quickly answers the phone. “Hello?” 

“Mr. Taylor, we have wonderful news, Mr. Deacon has awoken, he’s fully awake and doing fine, you and your bandmates can come at your earliest convenience.” Roger breathes a sigh of relief and runs to Where Freddie, now joined by Brian, are waiting. “He’s awake!” 

“Roger?” John is sitting up in his hospital bed, he was watching out the window at the passing world when the door opens. Roger rushes over to him, Brian and Freddie walking in behind him slowly. “Freddie, Brian.” Roger sinks to his knees beside John. “Hey, oh I’m so glad to hear your voice.” John gives Roger a confused smile. “It’s just me, Rog, weren’t we in an argument last night?” Roger felt his heart sink, John didn’t realize he had been unconscious for almost two weeks. 

“Freddie? Why don’t you stay here with, Deaky? Roger?” Brian motions for the drummer to follow him into the hallway Roger reluctantly stands and follows Brian outside. “Roger, I don’t know where his memory stops, but he doesn’t realize that you two are together. As far as he knows, I’m assuming he still thinks that he’s with Veronica.” 

Roger knows that he shouldn’t have stormed off, but he can’t help himself, John not remembering him was all he needed to shatter his heart completely. He knows that Brian will find him when they’re ready. Home doesn’t feel like the best place, anywhere in London doesn’t really, but he has nowhere else to go, so he goes to the studio. He sits on his drum stand and throws paper balls across the room to Were John’s bass is laying. 

Roger contemplates taking off his ring, it’s a heart-wrenching reminder that John doesn’t remember him, doesn’t remember their love, their life together. Hours pass and Roger can’t find it in himself to leave, he doesn’t want to go to their empty house, with all their memories and happiness and love. Herewith it’s grey walls and black carpet, his mood it matched, his tears beginning to make him dehydrated and he knows he needs to do something, anything other than sit here and cry. 

Brian is the only one who is trusted enough to explain the situation to Roger, the only one who knows Roger better than John. “Roger?” Brian sits next to his best friend, looking at the littered floor, paper balls scattered everywhere, Roger, who was lying face down on his drum stand, grunts out something similar to “can I help you?” without looking up. “I have updates on his condition.” Brian looks sadly at the silver ring laying a few feet away from Roger, he picks it up. 

“John has short term amnesia. The last thing he remembers is nineteen-seventy four, about two months before you got the balls to ask him out. As far as he remembers, he’s just broken up with Veronica. He’s asked several times if you and Fred cut his hair off in his sleep.” This makes Roger laugh, a real happy laugh. “I was crushed when he cut his hair,” Roger said. 

“Keep your ring on, Roger,” Brian said, pushing the ring into Roger’s hand. “We’ve just got to get his memory back. Doc said it shouldn’t take too long. A couple of weeks.” Roger looks at the ring in his hand then back at Brian. “When are they releasing him? Should I take him home? Should I let him stay with you guys? In ‘74 he still lived with Freddie.” Roger rambles. 

“He’s being released as we speak. “Me and Fred think it’s best if we spend most of our time at your house, but we’ll go home to sleep and shower. The closer it is to then the better chance we have at getting his memory jogged.” Brian explains, offering his hand to help Roger up. “I have a car waiting, we’ll pick them up on the way.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After several days of Roger moping, and John trying to figure out how he aged nearly ten years overnight, Freddie convinces Roger to show John memories of their relationship. “Maybe just show him the wedding binder, I mean, it might spark something, it has been the only thing on his mind for the past six months,” Freddie says, looking at where his Husband was talking quietly to Roger’s fiance. 

“He might just run away. What if these feelings are only meant to happen once?” Roger avoids Freddie’s sad look. When he goes to get the binder in question from the study upstairs that John had converted into their planning room, he avoids Brian’s sad eyes and John's confused look. He isn’t quite sure which one hurt the most yet, Freddie and Brian trying so hard to avoid saying anything to make the situation worse, or John who avoided most of Roger’s looks of lonely longing. 

“Where did you go?” John asks the moment Roger returns, John is still sitting on the couch next to Brian, the coffee he had been drinking was discarded next to Brian’s both of them long grown cold. “To the study.” He said softly, John made a grab for the binder and Roger didn’t stop him, although he sent a worried look to Brian. “You’re getting married? Let me see the ring!” John said when he read December 1982: Marrying My Best Friend. 

John made a grab for Roger’s left hand and admired the silver ring on his fourth finger. “It’s lovely, Rog. She’s lucky.” Freddie let out a snort as he came back to the living room where everyone else was. Brian gave his husband a disapproving look. “Did I say something wrong?” John looked around the room at Freddie who was suppressing laughs under Brian’s watchful gaze and Roger, hand still in John’s, who was looking down at his feet, the usually loud and talkative drummer had been to quite recently, it made John feel uneasy.

“He, Darling. Roger is as gay as they come.” Freddie said. “Almost as gay as you, Fred,” Brian said, laughing at his own joke, which caused Roger to crack a smile. “Says, my HUSBAND!” 

“Wait…Fred… you and… and B..Brian?” John looked at his bandmates with confused looks. “Enough about me and Bri, we are talking about Roger, and his gay wedding coming up,” Freddie said, sitting on the coffee table across from Brian. 

The binder was stuffed to the brim with fabric samples, color swatches, pictures of elaborate four-tier wedding cakes. On each page, there was a different picture of John and Roger, with sappy love quotes scribbled over the bottom of them. Roger watched John carefully, as did Brian and Freddie, they watched as he flipped through the endless pages, as he sat in the chair by the couch, as his mouth fell open when he finally took notice of the pictures. 

John looked up at Roger with an unreadable expression, he then looked down at his own left hand at the ring that matched Roger’s, a perfect match, ‘They compliment each other perfectly, just like us.’ Flashed through his mind as he silently looked at the ring. “Me…?” the youngest band member looked around the room for confirmation. Freddie nodded, softly nudging John towards the drummer, who was already halfway up the stairs at this point. 

Roger didn’t stick around from John’s reaction, he ran to their room, slamming the door and sitting in the center of their much-to-large bed. John knocked on the door softly, peeking his head inside “Rog?” Roger looked up “Yeah?” John walks inside the room, shutting the door. “I might not remember exactly how we got here, but I loved you then Roger, and I love you now, I just kinda missed ten years or so. Maybe… maybe we can make up for lost time.” 

Roger looks up from his hands and pulls John in for a chaste kiss, much like their first one, all those years ago, when they were young and afraid. John softly kisses the blond back. They can’t get any farther before Freddie and Brian open the door and jump on the bed. “Knew it!” Freddie shouted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes three weeks for John to get his full memory back. Roger was sure he would never be happier then he was the moment John told him what they had done on their five year anniversary and what Roger wanted to name their children if they decided to have them. 

The album takes no time to finish from there, press conferences are held from there, album release parties, more wedding planning. After what feels like ages, December arrives, two weeks until their wedding, John is buzzing with excitement, Roger is convinced his hair is turning grey from the stress of making sure everything is perfect, from the prefect arrival time for the flowers to make sure all the rooms are ready for their family who will be staying with them for the days before the wedding. 

John finds Roger pacing around the study across from their bedroom late one night, the world is quiet, as it usually was on a Wednesday at three in the morning. “Are you planning on coming to bed, Love?” Roger startles at John’s soft voice from the doorway where he is standing. “Yeah, be right there, just gotta make sure…” he moves a couple of stickers around on the paper on the desk where he had since stopped in front of the “Seating chart is perfect. You know that Lennon and McCartney have to sit next to each other, but Lennon can't sit next to Harrison, but Harrison has to sit next to McCartney. I was going to put Lennon, and McCartney at nine, Harrison on McCartney’s right and Starr next to him, then Elton John and Bernie Taupin can sit there too, and that table is finished. Come check this over please?” Roger is talking way too fast for anyone to understand. 

John comes and rests his hands on Roger’s waist, softly kissing his shoulder “It will be here in the morning, Rog, everything will be perfect, Freddie and Brian are coming early in the morning, Brian will check it over and make sure it’s perfect while we go pick up your parents from the airport. Now, I won't ask again. Bed.” He says, pushing Roger out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

The wedding is perfect, the snow stops falling in perfect for a white outdoor wedding, Roger’s mom cries, as does Freddie, though he will never admit it. As much as Roger worried about the seating and the cake and even the place settings, everything comes out wonderfully. Roger doesn’t remember exactly where he lost his silk tie, which he spent three months picking out the perfect color for, but sometime during the night he gets drunk enough to discard it, he knows Brian and Freddie are staying tonight and will be helping in the cleanup tomorrow morning while John and Roger are off on their honeymoon. 

Calling it a long night is an understatement, but everyone has fun, and John and Roger have a beautiful send off to their private jet that takes them to Fiji for three weeks. Roger comes home with a horrible sunburn and naps for nearly three days straight. John, on the other hand, has the slightest tan, he spends the days that his husband is sleeping endlessly sending thankyou notes to their guests, sorting their gifts into piles to be opened once sleeping beauty finally wakes up, and setting up interviews with different magazines about their wedding. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger remembers the exact year Queen starts to fall from the top twenty charts, 1991. It’s a rough year for everyone, Freddie gets the flu really badly, causing him to have to go on vocal rest for several months, Brian falls into a deep depression with the death of his mother, and John starts showing signs of potential Alzheimer’s later in life. 

“Roger!? I’ve missed you! How long have you been away? You’ve gotten old.” John laughs, looking at Roger, who had been in the room all day, and all of the past month. “It’s been a while, Deaks.” Roger forces a laugh. “When are Freddie and Brian coming by? I haven’t seen them in ages.” John continues. 

“Think they should be by later this morning, they’ve been busy with the grandkids and all.” John looks surprised “Grandkids? How many do they have? How many kids do they have?” John was there all five of Brian and Freddie’s children’s births and all eight of their grandchildren’s baptisms. “Five kids, eight grandkids,” Roger says softly, still in the chair he had been sitting in. 

“How’s he doing today?” Freddie asks when he meets Roger a few weeks later. “He remembers everything today, but yesterday he forgot that we were married.” Roger sounds defeated, how could he now? His husband of nearly forty years only remembers him on certain days, which are coming less and less as the month’s progress.

John wanted the radio on today, Roger complies, playing some oldies station his nephew told him plays music from the seventies and eighties, he said it might help with John and his memory. Roger would try anything at this point. “This song is really good. Who is this?” In rain or shine, you’ve stood by me girl, I’m happy at home, you're my best friend. Roger looks sadly at the radio than at John “That’s us, John, that’s Queen. You wrote that.” 

“Thank you for staying by my side through all this, Roger, I know how hard this has to be, given this is the second time.” John is laying in bed, lying next to Roger, this is the first time he’s remembered him in two weeks. “John Richard Taylor-Deacon there is nowhere else I would be, I don’t care if you never remember me again, I love you and the life we’ve had together.”

~~~~~~~

“Breaking news. Reports of Queen bassist John Taylor-Deacon has died due to complications from Alzheimer's. Husband Roger Taylor-Deacon, as well as life long friends and fellow bandmates Freddie and Brian Mercury-May, were by his side.” Roger didn’t know where he was running to, all he knew was he had to get out of the damned hospital. It was only ten-thirty in the morning and there were several tests to be run before Roger could collect the information and start planning the funeral. Home was the cold, desolate place that was once so happy and filled with love, the place where their wedding was held, the place where Brian and Freddie stayed when their house was being painted and they brought home their first child. 

Roger hadn’t drank that much since he turned eighteen and was new to the party scene. He doesn't know what possessed him to pick up the phone, or why he called the number he did. Five rings went by before “Hello, sorry to have missed you, been busy recently. If you leave your name and number I will give ya a ring when I get the chance. Thanks.” John’s voice played over the speaker of Roger’s phone, he hadn’t changed his voicemail since 2005, you could still hear Roger in the background yelling at the cat. 

“Please….” Roger choked out “Please, John.” A loud, choked sob. “Come home. Please. I….” He slurred “I need you. Please! John….Please. The clock reads 7:03 when Freddie finds Roger passed out on the kitchen floor, bottle loosely in one hand, his phone clutched tightly in the other. Nineteen outgoing calls to John, The Love Of My Life

“I’m reaching for the phone to call at 7:03, on your machine and I slur a plea for you to come home, but I know it’s too late.” ~ A Lack Of Color by Death Cab For Cutie


End file.
